


safe harbor

by MercyBuckets



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Past Relationship(s), Star Wars AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 05:25:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18492271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercyBuckets/pseuds/MercyBuckets
Summary: “Who do you know way out here?” Max asks.Michael looks away. “It doesn’t matter. If he— We need a safe place.”





	safe harbor

**Author's Note:**

> I'm blaming this one on malexhq and bisexualalienblast on tumblr who mentioned the Star Wars vibes from the 1x12 promo still.

“I can’t believe you shot that guy, Michael. Do you not understand the concept of a covert mission?”

Max isn’t yelling, not yet, but he is up in Michael’s space, a little too close for comfort. 

“You would be the worst Jedi ever. You lose your temper when you stub your toe,” Michael shoots back. 

“Will you two please shut up so I can try to salvage this.” Isabel sounds fed up with both of them, probably because she wants to go home, where she can take a shower. Michael doesn’t blame her. He may not like the desert but anything would be better than this ice cold rainy city.

“Salvage what? We’re probably wanted for murder now!” Max’s voice doesn’t get any louder but the single neon light at the end of the alley they’re hiding in flickers. 

Michael rolls his eyes. “Great control Max. Way to draw them right to us.”

Max is about to deliver a cutting response when two stormtroopers round the corner, blasters out. “Kriff!”

Michael dives for cover in a doorway, pulling Isabel down with him. Max yanks his own blaster out and presses his body close to the wall as blasts ricochet down the alley. He tries to return fire but the angle is wrong. 

“The rebels went the other direction,” shouts Isabel. 

The blaster fire stops. She stands, pulling free of Michael’s protective embrace. 

“The rebels are not here,” she says stepping forward. “They went the other direction.”

“The rebels are not here,” repeats the stoomtrooper closest to her in a monotone voice. 

Max slumps against the wall, blaster still up in case something goes wrong, but Isabel’s powers hold and the stormtroopers turn and walk away. 

Isabel’s knees buckle. Michael lunges and catches her before she can hit the ground. Max makes his way over to them, one had pressed to his upper arm. 

“Don’t tell me,” says Michael. “You’re bleeding.”

Max grits his teeth and shakes his head. “Not that badly. How is she?”

Before Michael can answer, Isabel bolts upright, turns to the side, and throws up. 

“I’m fine,” she chokes out. 

“We got you,” says Michael, rubbing circles on her back like she’s a kid again. 

“We gotta find a place to hunker down,” says Max, his voice tight with pain. “She won’t be able to that again.”

“I’m right here,” says Isabel irritably. She accepts the water that Max gives her, spitting and then gulping it down. “But you’re right. I don’t think I can manage a repeat.” 

Michael massages the stiff fingers of his left hand with his right. “There may be a place.”

“Who do you know way out here?” Max asks. 

Michael looks away. “It doesn’t matter. If he— We need a safe place.” 

Max is already helping Isabel to her feet. 

“I’m fine,” she insists, even as she leans on the wall for support. 

Michael gestures to Max’s arm. “You gonna make it?”

“I’m fine,” he says, his expression a carbon copy of Isabel’s only moments before. 

They move slowly. Partly for Isabel and Max’s sake but mostly to avoid drawing attention to themselves. They remain on foot. Michael’s hands itch for a speeder— or better yet, a ship— but they can’t risk it. With his hand and the weather, he’s not even sure if he could hotwire one in time. 

He has his good hand around Isabel’s shoulders but it’s Max he’s worried about. 

“Why’d you do it?” asks Max, like he can tell that Michael is thinking about him. Maybe he can. Their force bond has atrophied like a badly injured limb, but Max and Isabel can read him better than anyone except— well, better than almost anyone. 

“He pulled a blaster,” says Michael, not sure why he’s even bothering to explain himself to his brother. “He was ready to use it. I made sure he didn’t get the chance.”

“You could have been shot,” Max says, but there’s no fire in his voice That more than anything tells Michael how bad the pain is. 

“Better me than you or Iz,” says Michael. 

Isabel swats him and Max shakes his head. “Bullshit. You got a death wish, fine. But leave us out of it.”

“Actually, death wishes are very not fine,” Isabel interrupts. 

“I don’t have a death wish,” snaps Michael. 

Max scoffs. “Look me the eyes and say that again.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you. I just—”

“Just what, Michael?”

Isabel looks at Michael expectantly, because she always takes Max’s side. 

But then they round the corner and Michael’s saved from answering by the sight of a familiar green door. “We’re here.”

“Where is here?” Max asks in a tone of voice that makes it clear that the conversation is not over. 

“Somewhere safe,” says Michael. “And for force sake, let me do the talking.” 

Max nods at the door. “If it’s safe, why are we standing out here?”

Michael steels himself and knocks with his good hand before he can think better of it. 

The door swings open almost immediately.

“You’re back early. I thought— Wait, Guerin?”

Of all the scenarios Michael imagined, Kyle Valenti answering the door was not one of them. “Where is he?”

Valenti doesn’t bother asking who Michael means. “Busy. Why are you here?”

“I should ask you the same thing. Too hard to bully him from a distance?”

“He was my best friend for years and I know—” Valenti stops himself. “Is that blood?”

Michael glances from Max, stoic but pale, to Valenti and back. “You gonna turn us in?”

Valenti surprises him. “Fuck no. I’m a doctor and he looks like shit.”

“Kyle, can you grab the hard drive on the table?”

Michael freezes. The sound of that voice brings everything back like it was yesterday. 

“I’m kind of in the middle of a situation,” says Valenti over his shoulder. He turns back to Michael. “Your sister looks like she’s in shock too.”

“You want to sell our blood to the highest bidder Valenti? Turn us over to the Empire?” 

“You think I’m with the Empire?” Valenti looks torn between anger and disbelief. 

“What the fuck, Kyle? Did Jenna need you to untie her shoes for—”

The world stops when Alex steps into view. He looks older, of course. There are lines on his face that weren’t there before and new scars on his exposed arms. He’s leaning on a crutch and Michael can see a sliver of a silver prosthetic under his pants. He wants to run into Alex’s arms. He wants to beg for forgiveness, to scream at him for leaving, to demand answers.

“Hi,” he says instead. 

Alex looks him over and Michael is dimly aware of Kyle guiding Max and Isabel through the door.

After a long moment, Alex finally speaks. “Hi, Michael.” 


End file.
